


Spitfire

by baja_king



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baja_king/pseuds/baja_king
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple one shot when new prisoners arrive from the 332nd Fighter Group, Kinchloe's former unit. Includes a supposition as to Baker's arrival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spitfire

## Spitfire

Another truck rolled into the compound and the ensemble took careful notice. The heightened war meant increased prisoner numbers. Hogan wondered how many more men Stalag 13 could handle. Then he remembered that the captured men represented a percentage of the raiders who survived.

Death from above – that 82nd Airborne motto haunted him. While the paratroopers embraced it, Hogan understood it from a different point of view. You drop your eggs and you get the hell out of there. Along both routes, you evaded enemy fighters and antiaircraft artillery shells. If the foo fighters were about, ignore them as best as you could. Whoever or whatever they were, they merely observed and did not interfere. It sounded easy.

In the air, bomber crews saw the destruction as clouds of smoke. On the ground, it was a different story. Hogan remembered when he was in London during a bombing raid. He was trying to get to the airfield, casually until the sirens blared. He tried seeking shelter. Panicked civilians ran for cover. An egg hit a building and he ducked for cover.

In an instant, Hogan realized how terrible the destruction was when he saw three women shred to pieces from the force of the explosion. They were not in the building, simply in the road running for their lives. Is that what happened when he dropped his eggs? Quit calling them eggs, he thought. They are bombs – lethal things that kill people and destroy buildings.

The guards ordered the prisoners out of the truck. Hogan watched with curiosity. Six black men emerged from the back of the truck and one wore the silver bars of a captain. He did not realize the Tuskegee Airmen operated in Germany. He thought they flew missions over Italy and Africa.

LeBeau approached and said, “Mon Colonel, why are those men all black? Don’t misunderstand me but I’ve never seen all black men captured.”

Hogan said, “Tuskegee Airmen.”

As Kinchloe approached he said, “They’re with the 332nd Fighter Group. The 332nd loves dropping eggs on the Rhineland. I miss it.”

Hogan said, “I don’t get it. They have an impressive record.”

Kinchloe shrugged his shoulders, “Even you got shot down, Colonel.”

Hogan laughed, “That’s true. What about other fighter groups?”

Kinchloe said, “The 99th Pursuit Squadron operates this vicinity as well.”

Hogan said, “Those patches?”

Kinchloe said, “Same as mine. We’re the Spitfires.”

Hogan said, “We’d better listen in. I’m curious as to how the Kommandant will react.”

As the men entered the barracks and set up the coffee pot in Hogan’s office, the officer thought about the situation. Klink did not express the same views as Burkhalter. He remembered Battling Bruno. The general did not want a loyal German losing a boxing match to a black man. Hitler saw defeat at the 1936 Summer Olympics with the great athlete Jesse Owens, the man who singlehandedly crushed the myth of Aryan supremacy.

Listening in to the conversation, there was the initial shock from Klink when he realized he was addressing six black men. Instead of interrogating the men, Klink chose to render his famous speech. No one escapes Stalag 13. He summoned Schultz to find barracks space for the men.

Hogan said, “We’d better help Schultz.”

Kinchloe said, “Yeah. Do we even have six beds?”

Hogan said, “I hope so. LeBeau, they’re probably hungry too.”

LeBeau said, “I’ll take care of it.”

As Hogan and Kinchloe intercepted Schultz, Hogan approached the officer and said, “Colonel Robert Hogan, senior POW officer and liaison.” He extended his arm to the captain, who looked slightly bewildered at first but quickly regained his composure and reciprocated the handshake.

“Captain Al Cochran,” said the man. “I take it this is home for a while.”

Hogan said, “Regrettably yes but don’t mind Schultz. I say that because LeBeau is cooking up some dinner for you and Schultz will try to hone in on the action.”

Cochran said, “I see.”

Schultz asked, “What is the cockroach cooking?”

Hogan said, “I don’t know. Why don’t you go help him out?”

“But the prisoners,” whined Schultz.

Hogan said, “Kinch and I have it covered. You were going to put them in Barracks 10. We’ll take it from here.”

“There is monkey business going on here but alright, you can take them to Barracks 10,” said Schultz.

Cochran snapped, “Monkey business?”

As Schultz walked away, Kinchloe said, “He wasn’t being racist.”

Hogan said, “Believe it or not, he’s more of a friend than the enemy.”

The men headed to Barracks 10. Hogan waited until inside before explaining some of the delicate operations of the traveler’s aid society. It was a cruel thing to end up in Stalag 13, knowing one could not escape. One of the men pulled out some small radio parts from the lining of his escape bag.

Hogan asked, “What’s your name?”

“Sergeant Richard Baker,” said the man.

Hogan said, “Kinch, show Baker your radio.”

“Yes sir,” beamed Kinchloe. He went over to one of the sinks and unlatched the entrance. He braced himself as he descended into the narrow entrance. Baker immediately followed.

Hogan said, “Captain, this next tour may prove more interesting.” He descended into the tunnel, and the captain followed.

Hogan liked showing off his tunnel networks. He had a variety of operations including the forgers and the smiths. Hogan liked Cochran. He grasped the situation quickly. After a few moments Cochran said, “You run a fine operation, sir.”

Hogan said, “Thanks. We’ll see what we can do to get you out of here.” Cochran raised an eyebrow. “No one escapes from Stalag 13. The men who end up here understand that. Eventually Klink will want to transfer you to an Oflag. That’s a camp for officers. Trust me, it’s a good thing. Once you’re on the way out, we’ll rescue you and send you off to merry old England.”

Cochran said, “What about my men?”

Hogan sighed, “They’re enlisted. We can try but it’s difficult. Do you want to stay with your crew?’

Cochran said, “I care about my men. I also want to keep dropping eggs on the Rhineland.”

Hogan said, “I know what you mean. I’m under orders from London. This is my command now. If Klink never transfers you, you’re stuck here and for that, I’m truly sorry. If he does, know that your men will be taken care of here. We look out for each other.”

Cochran said, “Thank you sir. I’ll take that into consideration.”

Hogan understood the officer’s dilemma. He never again saw his crew, in part because of his posting to Stalag 13 and his new assignment. Yet there were days he wanted nothing more than to bomb the German country.

Would this war ever end?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Conclusion

## Conclusion

**Author notes: Some readers have requested a conclusion to this simple one shot. This has proven a challenge because of the racism and prejudices of the time and circumstances. After careful consideration, here you go.**

#HH#

As Hogan lay on his bunk, he contemplated the new arrivals. Captain Al Cochran with the 332nd Fighter Group remained anxious. Hogan tried to understand certain discriminations but considering his background and skin color all he could do was attempt a certain level of understanding. He was unaccustomed to thinking of men as white versus black, Christian versus Jew, European versus Native American, or any other artificial divisions.

Hogan rarely thought of Kinchloe as a black man. True, because of his skin color he could not participate on certain missions. The Krauts treated black prisoners with additional cruelty and ferocity, as they also did with Jewish prisoners. Some camp commanders sent the so-called undesirables to concentration camps, taking a stance in defiance of the Geneva Convention to appear loyal to the Nazi agenda.

Fortunately, Klink did not brownnose with such measures. Hogan always remembered that Klink was the enemy despite the man’s buffoonery and ineptitude. While easy to manipulate on many occasions, Klink did cower before Burkhalter as well as the Gestapo. Cochran and his men were relatively safe in Stalag 13.

As he let out a heavy sigh, Hogan understood Cochran’s desire to return to his unit. The Tuskegee Airmen were topnotch combat pilots. The Spitfires maintained an impressive kill rate. Despite that, old school officers felt the need to maintain superficial labels such as black unit.

Not everyone agreed with his reasoning. Hogan had several men in the camp who did not appreciate integrating black prisoners into white barracks. While they tolerated it to a degree, Cochran’s arrival set things askew. He was an officer. The bigots did not appreciate taking orders from Negroes.

One thing Klink increasingly did, as habit was transfer officers to Oflag 13-B. It would be easy for Hogan to convince him to send away Cochran. Hogan had to get Cochran back into the air as soon as possible. As much as Hogan also wanted back in the air, he had his orders. Hogan was proud of his unit.

A knock on the door stirred Hogan from his thoughts. He called, “Enter.” He sat up as Kinchloe entered the room. He continued, “What’s up?”

Kinchloe said, “I’ve been showing Baker the ropes.”

Hogan laughed, “You’ll finally get some sleep some nights.”

Kinchloe smiled, “Yeah, that’s true. London wants us to evacuate Captain Cochran and as many of his men as possible.”

As Hogan stood he said, “We can get the captain transferred to the Oflag but his men are enlisted.”

Kinchloe said, “I know, but the Krauts do let some enlisted into an Oflag to serve the officers.”

“I know,” said Hogan. “What’s on your mind?”

Kinchloe said, “It’s not right of me to ask.”

“Baker,” said Hogan.

Kinchloe said, “He’s good. I think he would be a valuable asset to the team. It’s just unfair to ask him.”

Hogan sighed, “I see, especially knowing that as soon as we get Cochran and the others outside of camp we’ll divert them to England. It’s not an easy thing to ask a man to give up voluntarily freedom. We might get lucky. Another radioman will come along.”

Kinchloe said, “Yeah, but you’re forgetting that not every radioman is worth his weight in gold.”

Hogan sat in a chair and said, “You really like him.”

Kinchloe said, “Like I said, he’s good.”

Hogan said, “Alright. First, let me talk with Captain Cochran. I don’t want to steal his man from him. Do I have the right to break up a good crew?”

Kinchloe lowered his eyes and said, “I hadn’t thought about that, Colonel.”

Hogan said, “I’ll talk with Captain Cochran. If he says no, we get Baker out of here with his crew.”

“Yes sir,” said Kinchloe.

Part of Hogan hoped Cochran would say no. He had nothing against Baker. In fact, he rather liked the young man who had smuggled radio parts in his kit when he first arrived. If Baker were white, would he struggle over this request? That was a reasonable question. Blacks fared worse under the Krauts than whites. Damn the Nazis for making him reject a highly qualified candidate simply because of skin color!

When Hogan first arrived, Kinchloe was already a prisoner. He did not have ask another officer to retain the radioman in capacity as part of his unit. He felt discomfort with the idea of treating Kinchloe different because of skin color. No man wants to be simply tolerated as unpleasant or disliked, endured with reluctant forbearance. Men want to be accepted for who they were and what they could do. Kinchloe had proven himself repeatedly.

As he approached Barracks 10, Hogan felt knots in his stomach. Why was this so difficult? He entered the barracks and men scrambled to attention but he waved his hand and said, “At ease.”

Cochran said, “We have coffee – hope you like it black.”

Hogan laughed in spite of himself. He said, “Red Cross parcels are late but they’ll be here soon enough.” He looked around the room and smiled. Other POW camps might segregate prisoners but not Stalag 13. He continued, “Captain, I’d like to speak with you privately.”

As Cochran poured the coffee he said, “Whatever it is, you can speak freely in front of my men, sir.” He set two cups of coffee on the table and motioned for Hogan to sit. He continued, “We’re a crew. I hold nothing back from my men.”

Hogan sat and said, “What I have to say may not be well received.”

Cochran sat and said, “We’re all men. We can handle it.”

Hogan said, “I’ll be speaking with the Kommandant to arrange your transfer to an Oflag. There’s no guarantee your men can accompany you. The Krauts do allow some enlisted at an Oflag to serve the officers.”

Cochran said, “Do you think things would be better for me at an Oflag?”

Hogan said, “You’d never see that Oflag. Once the truck leaves camp, we intercept and get you on your way to England.”

Cochran said, “But only the ones you can get transferred out of camp.”

Hogan sighed, “True. There’s more.” He took a sip of coffee and continued, “It’s not easy to ask a man to voluntarily remain a prisoner. Every man who comes to this camp understands what is at stake. Damn it! I don’t want to break up your crew!”

“Then don’t arrange the transfer,” said Cochran.

“I’m assigned here,” said Hogan. “London wants you back in the air dropping eggs. You’re good – damn good, Captain.”

One of the men said, “They do realize we’re black, right?”

Hogan said, “They want the best in the air. Believe it or not, I think they forgot you’re black.” Several men laughed at the notion.

Cochran said, “I want to be in the air. Colonel, I know that if we agree to this, whoever is left behind here you’ll do everything you can to look after them. I get the feeling there’s more.”

Hogan said, “It’s better asked in private.”

Cochran laughed, “It’s no secret. Sergeant Baker has been assisting Sergeant Kinchloe with the radio operations. You have your eye on him.”

Hogan shook his head, “I do. Kinch feels he would be a valuable asset to my team.”

Cochran said, “Well, ain’t that a first coming from a white officer?” Some of the men laughed nervously. He continued, “You want a black man on your team based on the recommendation of another black man. Colonel, why are you suddenly so worried about skin color? The first day we set foot in this camp you shook my hand without hesitation.”

“I hate that the Nazis force me to think about skin color,” said Hogan.

Cochran shook his head and said, “I see.”

As Hogan stood he said, “We’ll get you back in the air, Captain.”

Baker said, “Captain, I’ll miss you sir, if that’s alright.”

“I know you will,” said Cochran. “Colonel, I trust you to do the right thing.”

Hogan returned to Barracks 2. He had to compose himself and prepare to manipulate Klink. It was obvious Cochran and his men wanted liberation. Was Baker truly prepared to stay behind? Stop thinking and just do – mulling over it made little sense for an officer. He walked through the common area, out the door, and headed straight to the Kommandantur.

Hilda smiled, “Guten tag.”

For a moment, Hogan felt weak in the knees. Damn that luscious fraulein! At times, he planned his manipulations carefully. He had his orders from London. Cochran and his men had to get back into the sky.

Hogan gently said, “I need to see the Kommandant.”

Hilda stood up and moved to the door, “I’ll announce you.”

“That’ll be a pleasant change,” teased Hogan. Briefly, he tendered a kiss, which satisfied the secretary.

Klink was a different matter. While admitted to the office, Hogan was not exactly welcome. Klink and Schultz were reviewing inventories. Klink was frustrated at the loss of so many items and his funds could not compensate.

Klink said, “We’re supposed to have five thousand plates yet we only have three thousand, six hundred and seventy nine. What do you know about that Hogan?”

Hogan said, “Don’t look at me! Your cooks serve soup in bowls.”

Klink said, “There are trays missing as well.”

Hogan said, “Tell you what. I’ll have the boys look around camp and we’ll see what we can find. Of course, Schultz can look around the guards’ barracks.”

“Very good,” sighed Klink. Changing his tone he asked, “What do you want?”

Hogan said, “I’m wondering when you’re going to transfer Captain Cochran to an Oflag.”

“Yes, yes,” sighed Klink. “Wait a minute. Hogan, why do you want this man transferred?”

Hogan said, “You’ve been transferring officers left and right to Oflag 13-B. I just want to make sure you transfer a couple of his enlisted to see to his needs.”

Klink said, “I’m sure there are enough enlisted at Oflag 13-B already. Which one is Captain Cochran?”

Hogan said, “He’s an officer with the Tuskegee Airmen.” He watched as the blood drained from Klink’s face. Did the man have a conscience? Was he considering the various ‘what if’ scenarios if he sent the man to another camp? Hogan asked, “Well?”

Klink finally said, “I’ll arrange it. How many of his men?”

Hogan said, “There’s the captain plus five, but we know the Oflag won’t take that many enlisted. Sergeant Baker has agreed to stay here and join the football team.”

Klink said, “They won’t take four enlisted – maybe two.”

“Try,” said Hogan. “Baker will be fine here. We have other black enlisted men. I doubt there are any at the Oflag. Just don’t tell the Kommandant.”

Klink sighed, “Very well. Hogan, you surprise me. I didn’t think you had it in you. Dismissed.”

As Hogan left, he felt the sting of Klink’s comment. Of course, he knew better. London wanted Cochran back in the air. Hogan wanted back in the air. It was a strange world and an even stranger war. The Allies had to win.

It took several days for Klink to arrange the transfer. Oflag 13-B was reluctant because of overcrowding. When Klink suggested transferring the prisoners to Oflag 13-A in Nuremberg, his counterpart yielded. The two Oflag Kommandants did not care for each other, but more prisoners meant additional resources. Klink was just doing his duty sending away an officer.

The truck pulled up and Schultz began his rousting routine. Hogan approached Cochran and his four men. Baker nervously followed Hogan. Cochran was the consummate professional, rendering a salute that Hogan returned. Hogan then extended his arm.

Hogan said, “Remember what I said.”

“Yes sir,” said Cochran. “Take good care of my man.”

Hogan said, “I will.”

Baker said, “See you soon, sir.”

Schultz said, “Into the truck – roust!”

So far, so good, thought Hogan. The men loaded into the truck. He had to play it cool. He waited until the truck made its way through the main gate before returning to the barracks. He snapped, “Newkirk – GO!”

Newkirk scurried into the tunnels and Hogan prayed the plan would work. Carter and LeBeau were already set up on the highway with the requisitioned staff car. Hogan looked at his watch and the sweeping second hand. Newkirk should be out of the tunnels and on the motorcycle.

It was a daring daylight move, something unexpected for the heroes. Using the guise as Underground, the boys were going to liberate the five men. Hogan did not like the idea of involving Schultz in this particular plan, but Oflag 13-B insisted that Klink had to transport the prisoners. In a country suffering an oil shortage, it was an incredibly frugal act.

Kinchloe said, “Relax. What could go wrong?”

“I’ll relax when the boys return,” said Hogan.

#HH#

Newkirk ditched the motorcycle out of view. He could not be Underground riding a military bike. Carter and LeBeau already stopped the truck with the help of Dubay and several Underground members. Schultz and the two guards stood with their hands in the air.

“We should shoot them,” Newkirk growled in German as he approached the group.

Schultz cried, “My wife! My children!”

Carter said, “Nein.”

Dubay said, “Get the prisoners out of the truck. Schnell!” Newkirk and LeBeau lowered the truck gate. Cochran and his men hurried out of the truck. Carter motioned for them to enter the woods. Dubay cried, “Run! Scurry about the woods! Let the Gestapo waste its time searching for escaping prisoners!”

Carter and LeBeau led Cochran and his men into the woods. Newkirk raised the truck gate back into position. Everything was going very well. He asked, “How many flat tires?”

“Six,” said Dubay. “Let them march back to their precious Stalag.”

With every shot, Schultz slightly whimpered while the other guards closed their eyes in fear. Newkirk almost felt sorry for the guards. Hogan made it quite clear the guards were not to be harmed unless necessary. The operation needed Schultz.

Dubay said, “Left face. Forward, march!” Schultz and the guards began marching down the road. Dubay shouted, “Don’t look back or I will kill you!”

As soon as the guards were safely away, Schnitzer arrived in his wagon. This time, it was empty of dogs, but no one would dare open the back knowing the reputation of the veterinarian. Newkirk signaled Carter and LeBeau, who emerged out of the woods with Cochran and his men.

Newkirk said, “It’s a tight fit but Herr Schnitzer will get you to the safe house. Good luck chaps.”

“Thank you,” said Cochran. “Make sure that Colonel Hogan looks after Sergeant Baker.”

LeBeau said, “He’s moving into Barracks 2.”

Carter said, “Yeah. I sure hope he likes good French cooking.”

“Aw, thank you Andre,” said LeBeau.

Dubay teased, “Can the three of you manage on that motorcycle?”

“Piece of cake,” said Carter.

The men managed their goodbyes and the three climbed onto the motorcycle. It was not a comfortable ride but the men managed. They had to leave it far enough away from the tunnel entrance to prevent any guards from hearing its motor. Then the three made their way down the tree stump.

Olsen said, “The Colonel’s pacing holes in the floor. Better get above fast.”

The three men quickly changed into their uniforms and then scaled the ladder leading to the Barracks 2. Hogan observed as nervous as an expectant father might look and asked, “Well?”

Carter said, “They’re on their way to the safe house.”

Hogan sighed, “Thank God.”

Kinchloe said, “They’ll be dropping eggs in no time.”

Hogan said, “I envy them. Oh, well, life goes on. We should celebrate. Is the Adolf Hitler Bridge finished yet?”

Carter said, “Aw, no such luck. Wait! The Bad Kissingen Train Bridge is open for business!”

Baker asked, “What gives?”

Carter excitedly said, “Not what gives – what blows!” He rubbed his hands together and continued, “We have plenty of dynamite. The detonator is good to go…”

Newkirk said, “Down, Carter.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Hogan.

#HH#

As Hogan walked about the compound, he saw brave men making the best of a unique situation. Some played football while others played volleyball. If there were a decent snowfall, Carter would hold one of his famous snowman building contests. Back in the barracks, LeBeau was cooking up an Apfelstrudel. Newkirk kicked the football, encouraging the wrath of his American friends.

Hogan saw three men approach. He did not know every man’s name in camp but the leader of the trio he did. He waited for the rendering of the salute, but the man disregarded courtesy and stopped directly in front of Hogan. The two stood nose to nose, arousing the attention of others.

Hogan said, “I’d love to tango, Corporal Reynolds, but I’m not dressed for the occasion.”

Reynolds said, “We know what you did. Do you know how long I’ve been stuck here? A year!”

Hogan said, “Back off and for goodness sake brush your teeth.”

Reynolds hissed, “You think you’re real smart getting them coons out of here. How long were they here? Two weeks? And now they’re on their way back to merry old England.”

Hogan said, “Reynolds, you have a big mouth. Now I’m only going to say this once. Back off.” The growing crowd attracted the attention of several guards. Hogan could not afford a highly public incident.

Reynolds looked around and said, “This ain’t over, coon lover.” He abruptly turned and walked away with his two friends. Hogan watched as several others followed, men who were not friends with Reynolds but most likely intent on telling the man to stay quiet.

Newkirk said, “Bloody hell. Do you think he’ll squawk?”

Hogan said, “I hope not.”

“Maybe we should get him out of here,” said Newkirk.

Hogan said, “Reward him? Not in a million years! We can’t trust a bigot. Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer.”

The happy Stalag suddenly did not feel so happy at that moment. Hogan failed to consider the aftermath of his efforts among his own men. Was skin color that important?


End file.
